Crookshanks' Three Lives
by Black Night15
Summary: Everyone knows that cats have nine lives. This is the story about three of my lives. 1910s Era AU. No magic. ON THE BACK BURNER FOR NOW.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Sherlock.**

Waiting.

Waiting.

I stare at the hole, tail twitching, and I waited.

And watched.

Waited some more.

That mouse wasn't getting away this time.

I hear my owner's voice, calling my name. I distinctly hear the word 'supper.'

O well. Maybe I'll get him next time. Such is the life of a cat.

Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Crookshanks. Everyone knows that cats have nine lives. This is the story about three of my lives.

Let us begin with my first life. Like any cat, I love to chase mice and prowl around town. I would wander for hours on end, sometimes late in the night. It didn't matter how dirty I became or if I never caught anything. I always knew there was pampering and plenty of food waiting for me at home.

You see, I lived in a fine house with my owner, Hermione Granger. She was a sweet clever girl, though a bit bossy, especially with her friends.

I was the world to her. We practically did everything together. From reading books in the house's library (where I would make certain she paid more attention to me by sitting on the book she was reading), to searching for interesting specimens in the front yard (she would search while I lay in the grass, basking in the sun). We would even eat together at the table, where I had my own chair. At night, she would leave her window open so that when I wasn't prowling, I could come in and sleep in bed with her. We had to sneaky about that last one for her uncle did NOT aprove, declaring it to be unsanitary.

Hermione's parents had passed away, you see, so she lived with her uncle and guardian, Severus Snape, a respectable animal doctor of the small town of Hogsmeade.

In spite of being a rather strict and aloof man, he cared very deeply for his niece. In turn, Hermione absolutely adored her uncle, always eager to share with him anything and everything she learned, whether from a book or through exploring outside.

Little did any of us know, Severus Snape would become my murderer.

 **A/N: Thanks for reading! This little story was inspired by Disney's 1963 film 'The Three Lives of Thomasina' (a very sweet movie, by the way). It takes place in the 1910s. Please leave a review.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter or Sherlock.**

"Ms. McGonagall, did you know that caterpillars spend most of their life just eating leaves?"

"That's very interesting, Hermione."

The older woman smiled as she spread jam on her scone. An old friend of Snape's, Minerva McGonagall looked after Hermione and kept house while he was at work. She was a bit of a cat lover so needless to say, we got on quite well.

We were currently having breakfast, where Hermione was once again sharing her knowledge.

"Indeed. Crookshanks and I are going to hunt for them in the garden and put them in jars for further study. Maybe we'll actually get to see them transform into butterflies! "

"That would be facinating to see. But that will have to wait until after you finish your breakfast."

Hermione nodded and pick up her spoon to eat her porridge.

McGonagall pickeded up the teapot and poured in it in a cup as we heard footsteps on the stairs

A moment later, Snape entered and joined us for breakfast. "Is my tea ready, McGonagall?" he asked as he took a seat.

"Has it ever not been ready, Severus?" asked McGonagall, as she handed it over to him. He received the cup and sipped from it.

"Uncle, Crookshanks and I are going to search the garden for caterpillars. Hopefully, we can keep them in a jar and watch them become butterflies." Hermione fed me some bacon while she talked.

Snape scowled at me and turned to McGonagall. "Must that cat be on the table, eating off our plates? It's unhealthy!"

"He's not actually _on_ the table," Hermione protested, "he's on a chair _next_ to the table. And he's not eating off the plates. I'm giving him the food."

"So he's eating the food from your hand that you use to feed yourself," drawled Snape, "still unhealthy."

"It's not the same hand. I use my right for eating, and my left hand to feed Crookshanks." She began to scratch me behind the ears. I half-close my eyes to enjoy the sensation.

"Now Hermione," scolded McGonagall, "what have I said about debating?"

Hermione sighed. "Not at the table."

"Precisely. Besides, your uncle was talking to me and it was quite rude of you to interrupt. Now finish your breakfast."

Hermione obeyed without another comment.

"I have several appointments today. The last one being Albus Dumbledore, so don't wait on supper for me."

"Is Fawkes not feeling well again?"asked McGonagall with a knowing smile.

Snape huffed unamused. "It's those bloody lemon drops he keeps feeding that bird! I tell Dumbledore that every single time he comes to me. But he never listens!" He stopped his rant to take another sip of tea.

Hermione seized the moment of silence. "May I be excused? I finished my breakfast."

Snape sighed. "Yes, go do your research on bugs or whatever. Try to refrain from getting too dirty. McGonagall has enough to do without having to scrub mud out of your clothes."

Hermione skipped over to her uncle, planted a kiss on his cheek. He awkwardly patted her on the back. Then she came to my chair and scooped me up.

"Come on Crookshanks. We're going hunting."

" _Meow_ "

111111111111111111111111111111

"Come on Crookshanks. You're supposed to be helping me, not lying around."

I lazily glanced at Hermione. She was staring at me in a scolding way, with her hands on her hips. "You're absolutely hopeless, you know."

"Hello Hermione. What are you doing?"

Hermione and I turned to see a timid boy holding a box standing by the gate. I recognized him as Neville Longbottom, one of Hermione's friends.

"O, hello Neville," greeted Hermione as she rose to her feet and walked toward the gate. " We're hunting for caterpillars. That is **I** am. Crookshanks is supposed to be helping, but he's being absolutely lazy. " The last part was directed at me with a frown. I just stared back.

Hermione turned back to Neville. "What do you have in the box?"

"O, ah, it's a toad I found on the road. I named him Trevor. But he can't move very well. His leg is broken."

Hermione took the box and looked in. "O the poor thing! But it's a very pretty toad." She handed the box back. "Why don't you take it to my uncle? I'm sure he can help. His clinic is just down the street, not far from our house."

Nevilles eyes became big. "Oh I couldn't!"

"Why ever not?"

Neville shuffled his feet nervously. "Well, he frightens me really. With his dark eyes glaring, as if he can see right through me."

"O what utter nonsense,"scolded Hermione in a superior manner. "Uncle Severus may seem harsh, but he's a good person, I assure you. Just tell him you're a friend of mine. I'm sure he'll be more than happy to help you."

"Well, if you say so," said Neville, unconvincingly, "Let's go Trevor." He began walking down the street.

"Neville."

Neville looked back at Hermione.

"That way." Hermione pointed to the other direction of the street.

"Oh! Of course. Thank you"

"You're most welcome."

After Neville left in the the correct direction, Hermione marched straight toward me. I saw that no nonsense look on her face. It meant she was going to make do whatever it was I didn't want to do. So I did what any logical cat would. I ran.

"Crookshanks! Come back here!"

11111111111111111111111111111111

Neville walked nervously down the street.

"Morn'n Master Longbottom, sir."

He looked up and saw the pleasant face of Hagrid, a local shepherd, and his dog Fang. Neville smiled. "Good morning, Hagrid, Fang," he greeted.

"Where are ya off to on this fine day?" asked Hagrid.

"I'm on my way to the clinic. Trevor here hurt his leg."

Hagrid looked in the box and smiled. "Ah, a fine specimen that is. Though I don't know if Dr. Snape does toads."

"Well, at least I can try, right?"

"True. There's no harm in asking. Well, Fang and I are heading to the fields now to round up the sheep. Good luck to ya!"

"Thank you, sir," said Neville.

Hagrid nodded and walked away with his dog while Neville continued on his journey. He finally arrived at the clinic and stopped just outside the door.

He could do this. It is for Trevor after all. All he had to do was ask Dr. Snape to look at him. It's that simple, right?

He took a deep breath, mustered up what little courage he had left, and entered.

 **A/N: Comments?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Just to clarify, Hermione and the children's ages are about 8 to 9 years. Disclamer: Don't own Harry Potter or Sherlock.**

Dr. Severus Snape finished examining the dog on the table, then straightened himself. He grabbed a cloth and wiped his hands.

"Well, Doctor?"

He looked up at the owner, Ms. Trelawney, who anxiously waited for his answer.

"He's blind in one eye, his back legs are giving out. You told me he's hardly eating anything and he doesn't always hear when you call, is that correct?"

Ms. Trelawney nodded, her eyes wide and troubled as she adjusted her large spectacles. Snape decided that the truth would be best.

"My diagnosis is that your dog is slowly dying of old age. I'm afraid that he shall have to be put to sleep."

A gasp escaped the woman's lips. Then she clutched Snape's arm. "No, please! I've had him since he was a puppy. He's been my friend for sixteen years. Couldn't you just give him a teensy bit of medicine?"

"Ms. Trelawney, as you've stated, your dog is sixteen years old. At this stage no medicine in the world can help him. Putting him to sleep would be an act of kindness, as it will end his misery."

Trelawney released the doctor and began to weep. "But, what will I do without him? He's been the best friend I've ever had."

Snape folded his arms and waited for the woman to compose herself. The way she was carrying on grated on his nerves. Honestly, what was the fuss about? It was just a pet, an animal. It wasn't as if she was losing a loved one such as a husband or brother.

Or sister. Snape mentally shook his head and refocused on the sobbing woman.

When Trelawney's tears subsided, he spoke, "You asked for my opinion and I've given it. However, the decision is yours."

"Well," sniffed Trelawney, "if he is suffering...then I suppose it's for the best."

Snape nodded then walked over to his supply room and opened the door to talk to his assistant. "Slughorn."

An older man looked up from taking inventory. "Yes, Severus?"

"Please take care of Ms. Trelawney's pet."

Horace Slughorn observed the woman's tear-stained face and nodded in understanding. "Very well." He began reaching toward the shelf where he kept the chloroform when Ms. Trelawney asked, "It won't hurt, will it?"

The assistant smiled. "Of course not, my dear. It'll be just like going to sleep. He won't feel a thing."

"Thank you." The heartbroken owner gave her dog one last pat. "Good-bye, dear friend."

Snape placed a hand on her shoulder and guided her through the door to the waiting area, where a few people were waiting with their animals.

An elderly gentleman with an exotic bird looked up, smiling. His expression changed to concern when he noticed Ms. Trelawney's face. "Everything alright with your pet, Sybil?"

The distraught woman shook her head. "Doctor says that he has to be put to sleep."

The gentleman patted her arm. "I'm sorry, my dear. At least he lived a good long life."

Ms. Trelawney nodded. "Thank you, Lord Dumbledore."

She began sniffling again as Snape guided her out of the building and closed the door.

"Excuse me, sir?"

Snape turned and saw a boy sitting in a corner, holding a box, looking at him fearfully.

"I, my name's Neville Longbottom. I'm a friend of Hermione. I, ah, that is, do you think you could help Trevor, my toad? He has a broken leg."

A toad? What did the boy think this was? A zoo? Snape barely managed to keep the impatience out of his voice as he answered, "I'm afraid amphibians are not my speciality, Longbottom. My advice is to take it back where you found it."

"Please sir. He could die."

"Master Longbottem," replied Snape in low hard tone that broached no room for an argument, "I am an extremely busy man with many patients waiting. Now if you'll excuse, I must get back to work." With that, Snape returned to the back room to await his next patient.

111111111111111111111111111

Dejected, Neville left the clinic and walked down the street. "Sorry Trevor. At least we tried."

He heared footsteps running toward him. Neville turned and saw two boys; one with dark brown hair and wearing glasses, the other with flaming red hair. They slowed down as they approached him.

"Hello there Neville," greeted the redhead, "what have you got in the box?"

"Oh good day Ron, Harry. This is Trevor. I found him on the road."

The brown haired boy, Harry, smiled into the box. "Hello there, Trevor."

"What's wrong with his leg?" asked Ron.

"It's broken. I took Trevor to the clinic, but Dr. Snape wouldn't even look at him."

Harry huffed. "No surpise there. My godfather says that Dr. Snape doesn't care for pets. He only likes to treat working animals, such as sheep, cattle, and maybe dogs."

"Well, at least I tried right?" said Neville, "I suppose the only thing for me to do now is to take Trevor home and care for him as best as I can. Though with my luck, I doubt my best will be good enough."

"Maybe you should take him to the mad witch," said Ron.

Puzzled, Neville frowned at Ron and asked, "Witch? What witch?"

"He's talking about Molly Hooper," answered Harry, "She lives in a stone cottage, in the glen outside of town. Some of the local farmers take their animals to her to be cured. She a bit of an odd one, almost never comes to the town."

"But is she really a witch?"

"Fred and Greorge claim she is," replied Ron. He continued in a low scary voice, "They told me that she casts spells on the wild animals so that they are not afraid of her. She has a larder where she lures them in, unsuspecting. Then she cuts them up and eats their hearts and livers."

Harry let out a laugh. "Your brothers also claimed that if we took a dead cat to the cemetery at night, your warts would disappear. We tried that and nothing happened, remember?"

"Oi! That was different! They were pulling a prank on us! But it's true about the wild animals. Mr. Quirrell saw them himself when he brought his pet to the witch. He even saw the larder where she keeps them in cages."

"Did he see her cutting up the animals and eating them?" asked Harry, mockingly.

"Of course not! Do you really think she would do that while Mr. Quirrell was there?"

"But did she cure his pet?" interrupted Neville, "and the other animals the farmers brought to her?"

Ron shifted uncomfortably. "Well, yes. The farmers said that she has an unusual gift."

" 'Unusual gift' doesn't necessarily mean witchcraft, Ron," said Harry

"Well then, if she is the only one who can help... I'll go to her. It is for Trevor after all."

"You're really going to do it?!" Ron stared at Neville incredulously. "Aren't you afraid?"

"Why? Are you?" smirked Harry.

"Of course not!"

"Fine, then I dare you to go with Neville."

"What?!" Ron looked startled, but then stuck out his chin and said, "Fine, but you'll have to come along."

"All right. I'm not afraid. I don't believe the Hooper woman is a witch anyway. You don't mind, do you Neville?"

"Oh no, of course not!" exclaimed Neville, looking very relieved. "It'll be nice to have some company."

"All right then, let's go!" And with that, the three friends begin heading toward the glen.

 **A/N: Wow! Thanks for the follows and favorites! Please leave a review and tell me what you think.**


	4. Chapter 4

**I don't own Harry Potter or Sherlock.**

The glen was located just outside of town. It contained a small forest, full of greenery and wild life. It was quite peaceful. But to young boys on their way to see a witch, the forest had a menencing air about it. It was as if the trees were closing in on them.

Suddenly, there was rustling in the branches. The boys jumped and quickly scoured their surroundings.

"What was that?" asked Neville. As if answering his question, a raven burst out of a tree and swooped over their heads, giving a resounding _caw_ as it flew away.

Harry took a deep breath and shrugged. "Just a raven. Nothing to worry about."

"Who's worried?" scoffed Ron. But then he yelped as a small furry creature scuttled by his feet and ran up a tree. It stopped halfway on the bark and the boys saw that it was a grey squirrel. It then scampered up and disappeared into the branches.

Harry glanced at Ron and laughed. "You should have seen your face!"

"Shut up, Harry. It just startled me."

"How much farther?" asked Neville.

Still glaring at Harry, Ron answered, "Almost there. Just up this hill."

He and Neville began hiking up the hill. Still chuckling, Harry followed. After they reached the top, the boys came to a clearing. They crouched behind a large bush nearby to observe the area.

They saw an old stone cottage. Next to the door, under a window, was a small garden. At the center of the clearing, a couple of feet in front of the cottage, stood a large old tree. Hanging from one of the branches, was an old dinner bell.

But what really caught the boys attention was the wild animals they saw. There was a small family of rabbits just outside the door, and some bluebirds pecking around the tree. There was even a doe grazing on the side of the house.

Neville stared in awe. "I've never seen so many wild animals in one place. Do you think she put a spell on them?"

Harry shook his head. "She probably feeds them. There's this sparrow that hangs around our house because Mom feeds it breadcrumbs."

"Listen!" whispered Ron. They kept still and heard a banging noise coming from inside the house. "She must be chopping up some animals for her supper tonight."

"Don't be ridiculous," said Harry, but even he began to look worried.

"All right Neville, do you see that bell there?" Neville nodded and Ron continued. "Place the box underneath the bell, and ring it as hard as you can."

"All right." Neville nervously got to his feet and stepped into the clearing. He paused when he realized the others hadn't moved. "Aren't you coming?"

Harry shifted and lowered his eyes. "Well, it's your toad. You should do the honor."

Ron nodded vigorously. "Exactly. But don't worry. We'll be right here."

When he saw that they weren't going to follow, Neville turned to face the cottage. He approached the bell and placed the box underneath it. Then he firmly grasped the rope attached to the bell with his right hand. After taking a deep breath, he tugged the rope hard, three times. Then he dashed back to the bush and joined the others. They all waited anxiously.

The door opened and a woman stepped out. She was wrapping a shawl around her head and shoulder. Her petite stature and elven-like face gave a mysterious air about her.

Suddenly, a small dog bolted out of the cottage. To the boys' horror, it ran straight toward the bush where they were hiding and began barking at them.

Harry desperately waved a hand at the dog as he and Ron hissed, "Shh, go away! Get back!"

"Billy! Come here, boy," called the woman. The dog ran back to its owner. "Go on, into the house with you."

"Do you think she saw us?" whispered Neville. Ron shrugged.

They watched as the Hooper woman led the dog into the house and shut the door. Then she walked over to the bell, and picked up the box..

"Oh, you poor thing," they heard her softly say as she peered into the box, "your leg is broken."

She then looked up with a mischievous glint in her eye and a little loudly exclaimed, "So someone has brought you to the witch to be cured. Very well."

The boys watched as she closed her eyes and raised her right arm to the sky. Then she began chanting, in a low mysterious voice, "Oh strange magic of dark and old, grant me the power to cure this toad."

"Sh-sh-she's actually c-c-casting a sp-sp-spell," sputtered Ron. Neville began breathing heavily and even Harry's heart was pounding in his chest, as he stared wide-eyed.

"AH, ha, ha, ha, ha!"

All three boys jumped and fell over each other as the Hooper woman suddenly burst into wicked cackling. None of them looked back as they scrambled to their feet and fled the scene.

1111111111111111111111111

Molly giggled as the boys ran away. Of course she knew they were behind the bush. How could she not? It had been greatly amusing to watch as they tried to shoo Billy away while practically squishing each other in an attempt to remain hidden.

No doubt after delivering the toad, they had been simply curious to see the 'witch'. So she merrily gave them a show. Her performance must have been better than she anticipated, if it had frightened the boys away.

Truly, Molly was very fond of children. They were full of life and imagination. She remembered when she was a little girl. She had believed in fairies and would spend hours in the fields, searching for them.

A croak from the box brought Molly out of her thoughts. She smiled at the toad and carried it into the house. "Don't worry, it'll be alright. I'll take care of you and you'll be hopping around, good as new."

1111111111111111111111111111

The three boys ran as fast as they could, ignoring the brush and branches that scratched their faces and legs. They didn't stop until Neville tripped on the root of a tree and fell flat on his face.

"Are you all right?" asked Harry as he and Ron helped Neville up.

Neville looked over himself. "Well, I've got dirt all over the front of my clothes; Grandmother won't be happy about that. And a few scratches but other than that, I'm fine, thanks."

When he was assured that Neville was all right, Ron looked at Harry and waved his arm in the direction of the cottage. " _Now_ do you believe me?"

"All right, I'll admit that Molly Hooper could be a witch."

"Could be? You saw her doing that spell! What more proof do you need?"

"What about Trevor?" Neville anxiously looked back toward the cottage. "You don't think she'll eat him, do you?"

Ron shook his head. "No, she only eats wild animals, not pets. At least, none of the farmers have complained." His eyes widened. "Blimey! I nearly forgot. I'm suppose to meet Mum and Ginny at the shop."

"Let's go," said Harry, "if we hurry, maybe you won't be late." The boys then took off towards the town.

 **AN: Thank you for the favs and follows! Some feedback on how I'm doing would be nice. Even a simple "I like it" or a PM will do. :-)**


	5. Chapter 5

**I don't own Harry Potter or Sherlock.**

 **For the record, I ship Hinny and Ronmione. (1) Because they're canon. (2) I think they're both cute. Though I won't be focusing on them too much in this story, mainly because they're only children. I just couldn't resist hinting about them in this chapter. :-)**

I settled on the branch of a tree I had climbed, and ignored a very irate girl down below. Or at least, I tried to ignore her.

"Crookshanks, if you don't get down here.."

"Good morning, Hermione dear." Hermione stopped her tirade and turned at the cheerful greeting. I also looked and saw a women standing by the gate, with a little girl by her side.

"Oh, good morning, Mrs. Weasly, Ginny," greeted Hermione as she walked toward the gate.

"What are you up to on this fine day?"

"I'm hunting for caterpillars, so that I can put them in jars and study them. Hopefully, they'll become butterflies."

"Ooh, that sounds like fun," exclaimed Ginny. She turned to her mother with puppy eyes. "Can I stay and look too, Mummy? Please?"

"Now Ginny, we wouldn't want to impose on Ms. McGonagall."

"Oh I'm sure she wouldn't mind," said Hermione, "If you'll wait here, I'll go ask her right now." Before Mrs. Weasley could say another word, Hermione ran into the house.

I knew McGonagall would allow Ginny to visit. She was always encouraging Hermione to spend more time with her friends, and less time in her books. From my position in the tree, I heard Hermione asking McGonagall if Ginny could stay. McGonagall gave her consent, and Hermione ran back outside.

"Ms. McGonagall said it would be fine, as long as we stay in the yard."

"Oh please may I stay, Mummy? If Ms. McGonagall doesn't mind..."

Mrs. Weasley smiled. "Very well. I'll be over at the shops. Stay here until I come for you, is that clear? "

" Yes, Mummy." The eager redhead skipped into the yard, when Hermione opened the gate

"Have a good time, girls," called Mrs. Weasley as she walked away.

The girls waved, until the mother disappeared around the corner. Ginny turned to Hermione. "So what should I do?"

"Well first, go grab that jar over there."

I stretched and settled on the limb. Now that Hermione had someone else to boss around, I could relax as long as I wanted.

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

"Ginny! What are you doing here?"

Annoyed, I opened my eyes and raised my head to see who would dare to disturb my nap. There were three boys standing by the fence. I identified them as Neville, Ron (Ginny's brother), and Harry Potter.

"Hello Ron, Hermione and I hunting for caterpillars. Look at what we've found so far." Ginny held up the jar to show the boys.

As the boys peered into the jar, Hermione asked, "Neville, where is your toad? Did Uncle Severus cure it?"

Neville shook his head. "No, he wouldn't even look at Trevor. So we took him to Molly Hooper instead."

Hermione frowned. "Who's that?"

"She's the witch who lives in the glen," declared Ron. If I didn't know better, I would have said that he was showing off.

"Really Ron," scolded Hermione, "there's no such thing as witches."

Ron scowled at Hermiones. "Well this one is. She was chopping up some animals for her supper."

Hermione scrunched her nose. "That's disgusting! Did you really see her doing that?"

"Well, uh, no," stammered Neville, "we just heard a banging sound from inside the house."

"A banging sound?" Hermione looked incredulous. "That doesn't mean anything! I bet you didn't even see her."

"As a matter of fact, we did!" I could tell Ron was irritated that Hermione wouldn't believe them. "She was waving her hand around, in order to cast a spell."

"Did you actually see her casting a spell?" Ginny asked Harry, in awe.

"Well, not exactly.."

"Not exactly?" Hermione raised her eyebrows skeptically.

Harry glanced down and shuffled his feet. "To be honest, we didn't stay to see."

"Hmph! So you didn't see her casting a spell. So you can't say for certain that she _is_ a witch."

"We didn't see her _not_ cast a spell," retorted Ron, "so we can't say for cetain that she _isn't_ a witch, either!"

"It doesn't matter what you did or didn't see, Ron. There's no such thing as witches!" Hermione countered back.

I rolled my eyes. Those two were worse than cats and dogs. (No offence to my species.) It was hard to imagine that they were good friends, since they almost always fought, whenever they were together.

Ignoring the debate, Ginny turned to Harry. "So did you really go to the glen, even though there might have been a witch? You must be awfully brave."

Harry binked. "Uh, well, Neville here is the brave one. He actually placed the toad under the tree and rang the bell to summon the wi...er...Hooper woman."

Ginny continued to gaze at Harry adoringly. "He's lucky to have a good friend like you to help him." Harry blushed, and stared at his feet, embarrassed, though clearly pleased with the praise.

I rolled my eyes again. _Those_ two were worse than a pair of lovebirds!

"Ronald Weasley!"

Everyone, myself included, jumped at the sharp tone. Mrs. Weasley came marching toward the fence, in a state of fury. She stopped right in front of her son. "Where have you been? I've waited for at the shop for nearly an hour before finally deciding to come here to pick up your sister, and then return to the shop to wait some more. Now, where have you been?"

Ron paled, and I really couldn't blame him. If his mother was angry with him for being late, she'd be furious if she knew he'd gone to see a supposed witch.

Fortunately, before Ron could say anything, Harry stepped in. "We're terribly sorry Mrs. Weasley. We were playing and lost track of time. We were just on our way to the shop, I promise."

Mrs Weasley smiled at the polite boy. "Thank you Harry, but I really don't blame you or Neville. Ron should have been more responsible." She frowned at her son. "We will discuss your lack of punctuality at home with your father." Mrs. Weasley then grabbed the boy's shoulder, and marched him down the street. "Come along, Ginny."

"Yes, Mummy." Ginny placed the jar of caterpillars on the ground, then turned to her hostess. "Good bye Hermione, and thank you. I had a very good time."

"You're welcome."

As the redheaded girl moved toward the gate, Harry rushed over and opened it for her. She smiled. "Thank you, Harry."

The boy blinked and muttered, "Uh, your welcome." Ginny ran to her family, who were already halfway down the street.

When the Weasley's were nearly out of sight, Harry turned to Hermoine. "I should be heading home too, Hermione. I don't want my parents to worry."

"Me neither. I mean, I don't want Grandmother to be upset if I'm late for dinner," said Neville.

"All right, then. It was nice to see you, Harry and Neville."

Soon after the boys left, I heard McGonagall calling from the front door, "Come inside, Hermione. It's time for dinner."

At the word dinner, I perked up. As Hermione walked to door, I immediately scrambled down the tree, and ran straight to her. She placed her hands on her hips. "Hmph! You never came when I needed your help, but now that it"s dinner time, you come." But then she picked me up, and snuggled her face in my fur as she entered the house, so I knew she wasn't _too_ angry.

1111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Finished with his last appointment, Snape sat at his desk, and began filling out the paperwork. He glanced up and watched as his old friend and last customer, Albus Dumbledore, fed a lemon drop to his bird.

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Honestly Albus, why do I even bother examining your pet? Every visit is the same diagnosis." He lowered his hand and gave Dumbledore a pointed glare. "Too. Much. Sugar."

With a merry twinkle in his eye, Dumbledore stroked his bird. "Aww, but Fawkes has such a sweet tooth. I really can't find it in my heart to refuse him." Knowing he was fighting a losing battle, Snape resumed writing.

"I've finished counting our supplies, Severus. I'll deliver Ms. Trawlney's dog to her house for burial, then head home from there."

"Very well, Slughorn," Snape acknowledged his assistant, without looking up.

"Good evening, Albus. Always a pleasure."

"Likewise, Horace."

After the assistant left, Dumbledore said, "Poor Sybil. She's had that dog for nearly sixteen years. It'll be hard on her."

Snape rolled his eyes. Of course, Dumbledore had to become sentimental. "It was dying of old age. There was nothing I could do for it. Putting it to sleep was an act of mercy."

"Oh I have no doubt of that, Severus. But couldn't you perhaps be a little more sympathetic to Sybil's grief?"

Snape stopped writing, and glared at the gentleman. "It's just an animal. If it had been a working dog, then I could understand her grief, as she would have have lost her source of income. Instead she gave it food, shelter, and affection, and what did the dog give her in return? Nothing, except sorrow and heartache. Which proves my point. There is _nothing_ useful about pets."

"You must see some use in them. After all, you did get a cat for your niece."

Snape scoffed. "I didn't _get_ the cat. It just showed up at our house three years ago, and Hermione attached herself to it, almost immediately." He paused, and his expression changed from scorn to neutral. "It was on the day she moved in with me."

"Ah, I see. After her parents passed away."

Snape nodded. "It seemed to distract her from her grief, so I allowed her to keep it." He folded his hands, and stared at the wall. "It gave her comfort when I was unable to."

"You were mourning yourself, Severus. That's understandable. You just lost your sister, who you were very close to." Dumbledore stared at Snape knowingly. "In fact, and I'm saying this as a friend Severus, you're still grieving."

Snape instantly stood, and began gathering the papers. "I really must be getting home. As soon as I've finished with the figures, I'll send you the bill."

Dumbledore noted the change of subject, but decided not to comment. "Very good. Thank you and good evening, Severus. Give Hermione and Minerva my regards."

Snape nodded curtly, as Dumbledore left with Fawks. When the door shut, he sighed and ran a hand over his face.

Dumbledore's words had touched a sensitive part. A part that he tried to bury in his work. His sister's and brother-in-law's unexpected death of typhoid fever, had been extremely painful. So he threw himself into the work of caring for animals. While he was good at his job, Snape always remained detached from his customers, keeping his interactions at a business level.

The one thing that kept him from going completely cold was in the form of a little bushy-haired girl.

Snape's expression softened. In many ways, Hermione was a bright reflection of her mother. Her love of books, the eagerness to learn, and, perhaps unfortunately, her rather bossy nature.

Snape smirked at the last one. There was no denying that his niece was _very_ opinionated. And yet, despite how annoying Hermione could be when she voiced her beliefs, Snape found he didn't mind it too much. It was almost like seeing his sister alive again.

The clock on the wall chimed, alerting Snape of the hour. He placed the papers in his case, and proceeded to lock up the clinic, before heading home.

 **Thanks for the favs and follow. Please leave a review or a PM, because I would really like to know your thoughts on this fic. :-)**


End file.
